


Forgiveness

by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Lynch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-20
Updated: 2010-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:04:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles/pseuds/OneWhoSitsWithTurtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes words aren't enough. And actions speak louder than words. Locke/Jean</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Quotes from "Red Seas under Red Skies" and characters belong to Scott Lynch.
> 
> Warning: Spoilers for "The Lies of Locke Lamora" but nothing vital for "Red Seas". Male/male pairing, so if that's not your thing you should probably stop here.
> 
> Rating: Mature/Explicit
> 
> Pairing: Locke Lamora/Jean Tannen
> 
> Setting: A continuation of a conversation held between Locke and Jean in a travelling luxury carriage. Italics are quotes from the book, and normal text is my own.

Red Seas under Red Skies – page 86-87

 

_...Jean sighed, and all the banter went out of him like wine from a punctured skin. ‘I suppose...that just leaves...damn.’_

_‘What?’_

_‘I, ah...well, hell. Are you going to break down on me again? Are you going to stay reliable?’_

_‘Stay **reliable**? Jean, you can...damn it, look for yourself! What have I been doing? Exercising, planning—and apologizing all the damn time! I’m sorry, Jean, I really am. Vel Virazzo was a bad time. I miss Calo, Galdo and Bug.’_

_‘As do I, but--’_

_‘I know. I let my sorrow get the best of me. It was damned selfish, and I **know** you must ache like I do. I said some stupid things. But I thought I’d been forgiven...did I misunderstand?’ Locke’s voice hardened. ‘Shall I now understand that forgiveness as something prone to going in and out like the tide?’_

_‘Now that’s hardly fair. Just--’_

_‘Just what? Am I special, Jean? Am I our only liability? When have I ever doubted your skills? When have I ever treated you like a child? You’re not my fucking mother, and you’re certainly not Chains. We can’t work as partners if you’re going to sit in judgement of me like this.’_

_The two of them stared at one another, each trying to muster an attitude of cold indignation, and each failing. The mood within the little cabin turned morose, and Jean turned to stare sullenly out through the window for a few moments while Locke dejectedly shuffled his cards. He attempted another one-handed cut, and neither he nor Jean seemed surprised when a little blizzard of paper chits settled into the seat beside Jean._

_‘I’m sorry,’ Locke said as his cards fluttered down. ‘That was another shitty thing to say. Gods, when did we discover how easy it is to be cruel to one another?’_

_‘You’re right,’ Jean said softly. ‘I’m not Chains and I’m certainly not your mother. I shouldn’t push you.’_

_‘No, you should. You pushed me off that galleon and you pushed me out of Vel Virazzo. **You** were right. I behaved terribly, and I can understand if you’re still...nervous about me. I was so wrapped up in what I’d lost, I forgot what I still had. I’m glad you still worry enough about me to kick my arse when I need it.’_

_‘I, ah, look—I apologize as well. I just--’_

_‘Dammit, don’t interrupt me when I’m feeling virtuously self-critical. I’m ashamed of how I behaved in Vel Virazzo. It was a slight to everything we’ve been through together. I promise to do better. Does that put you at ease?’_

_‘Yes. Yes, it does.’ Jean began to pick up the scattered cards, and the ghost of a smile reappeared on his face. Locke settled back in his seat and rubbed his eyes._

Suddenly Locke felt two strong hands wrap carefully around him and pull him across the small cabin to sit on Jean’s legs, one of his knees resting on the cushioned seat on each side of Jean’s hips. ‘Jean?’ he spoke quietly.

Jean looked at him, one hand on Locke’s back to help support him while his other hand brushed away a few strands of stray hair. ‘I worry about you because you are **my** liability, Locke. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you...But you must know that I trust you with my life.’

‘And I, you, which I hope you already know,’ one corner of Locke’s lips quirked up in a small smirk. Locke’s smirk faded with his surprise when Jean suddenly placed a hand at the base of his skull and pulled his lips down to meet his own. After a moment Locke pulled away slightly, ‘Jean?’ he asked again.

‘Just shut up a moment, would you?’ Jean laughed quietly before pulling Locke down for another kiss, slipping his fingers into the fine hairs at Locke’s neck. This time Locke returned the kiss, hesitantly at first, and then growing more confident. He rested his injured hand on Jean’s sturdy shoulder to keep his balance while threading the nimble fingers of his right hand into Jean’s shorter hair, pulling himself closer to Jean’s heat.

The kiss remained tender and slow at first, both men wanted to portray their forgiveness and Jean also being cautious of Locke’s still healing scars. But it wasn’t long before a heat began to grow between the two of them and the kiss turned into a battle of lips and tongues. Locke’s hand moved from Jean’s shoulder to cup his jaw while Jean’s hand slid down Locke’s back to sneak under the hem of his shirt.

Jean’s calloused fingers skimmed over Locke’s smooth back, causing Locke to arch into him slightly. Jean smiled into the kiss at Locke’s reactions and Locke pulled away from the kiss for a moment, ‘Bastard.’ Jean merely smiled again and remained focused on his traveling hand, which he slipped around to Locke’s stomach and trailed up to skim over one of Locke’s nipples.

Locke let out a choked hiss, which he was clearly trying to keep from being vocalized. ‘I do believe we are both overdressed, you and I,’ Jean smirked before trailing both of his hands down to grasp the hem of Locke’s shirt and pull it cautiously over his head, aware of Locke’s shoulder as he did so.

When Locke’s shirt was removed Jean traced a finger carefully along Locke’s scars, which still burned red, following his finger with tender kisses. When he was satisfied he returned his attention to Locke’s chest, catching one nipple in his mouth while brushing his fingers over the neglected one. Locke gasped slightly, cheeks red partially in lust and partially in embarrassment over his vocal reactions. Jean looked up sharply, worried he had hurt Locke. But when he saw Locke’s surprisingly shy face he rolled his eyes, ‘Stop being so gods-damned self-conscious.’

‘Only if you stop treating me like a fucking glass ornament,’ Locke shot back, quickly cut off by a heated kiss from Jean. Though Jean was still careful of Locke’s injuries, he was certainly more heated in his actions as he trailed hot kisses along Locke’s neck and down to his chest again, leading the man sitting above him to let out a quiet moan.

While Jean paid attention to his chest, Locke kissed along Jean’s jaw line and down his neck, marking him at the base of his neck where the fabric of his shirt would normally cover it. He wanted to mark Jean where everyone could see it but that could cause problems for the new identities they were about to adopt. When he came across a sensitive place on Jean’s neck where jaw and throat connected Locke bit down lightly, causing Jean to gasp and thrust up into Locke, which in turn caused Locke to grind back down into Jean without conscious thought.

Both men caught each other’s eyes, which were darkened with lust. They were both panting as Jean quickly turned them around and lay Locke down lengthwise along the cushioned seat, Locke’s legs wrapped around Jean as he settled between Locke’s legs. The seat was just wide enough for them to lie there since the carriage was made for multiple-day trips, but Jean still kept careful hold of the edge of the seat so that he and Locke would not be displaced if the carriage hit a bump in the road.

Jean quickly pulled his shirt over his head before leaning over Locke, holding the majority of his weight off Locke with his arms as he kissed the breath from Locke. When he was finished Locke was breathing heavily and Jean gave him a smirk before trailing kisses down his body until he reached the top of Locke’s pants. He made quick work of the knots in the belt and slid the fabric off as Locke arched his back up, quickly discarding the pants on the carriage floor and returning to his previous quest.

He leaned down and ran his tongue up Locke’s cock slowly from base to tip, pleased to see Locke drop his head back on the cushion and pant. Catching his breath, Locke rested on his elbows to watch just as Jean captured the tip and swallowed the entire length slowly in one go. ‘Jean...’ Locke groaned at the sight, letting himself fall back onto the cushion and simply **feel**. Encouraged by Locke’s vocalizations, Jean continued his work thoroughly until Locke’s thighs began to tighten on the sides of his head, Locke’s panting grew louder and his hips began bucking without pattern. ‘Jean, I—I’m going to--’ Locke whined between pants.

At Locke’s warnings Jean pulled his mouth away, Locke’s cry of frustration not going unnoticed. Jean cupped the palm of one hand around the tip of Locke’s flesh while stroking up it tightly with purpose using his other hand. Two more strokes and Locke’s back arched off the cushion, his cum painting Jean’s palm while Jean’s hand continued to milk him for everything he had.

‘What—what the hell, Jean?’ Locke panted as his body lay sated on the cushion, more relaxed than Jean had ever seen him before.

‘Well we didn’t have any lubricant, did we? Exactly,’ Jean continued as he saw Locke’s expression. ‘Now close your gods-damned mouth and relax.’ With that he coated two fingers and carefully inserted them into Locke while he was still relaxed from his orgasm. Locke grunted, more in discomfort than pleasure, but remained quiet. When Jean was sure Locke was prepared he quickly got rid of his own pants, finally releasing his aching cock with a sigh.

He coated himself with the rest of Locke’s cum before positioning himself at Locke’s entrance. Jean leaned over Locke, brushing sweaty strands of hair from Locke’s face with his clean hand. Then he caught Locke’s lips in a chaste kiss as he slowly pushed himself in, only stopping when he was fully seated. He kissed Locke’s still lips briefly before whispering, ‘Breathe Locke.’

Locke gasped quickly, having forgotten to breathe while Jean was moving. After a moment of adjustment Locke looked up at Jean, trying to look less sentimental than he felt towards the man currently seated above and inside him. Jean’s features softened looking down at Locke so Locke rolled his eyes quickly, ‘Get on with it, would you?’

Jean slid out slowly before quickly thrusting back in, searching for the little bundle of nerves that would turn Locke’s pained grunts into moans of pleasure. It took another thrust or two when suddenly Locke gasped, his hands flying up to grab onto Jean’s shoulders and pull him down into a passionate kiss. Jean relented excitedly, kissing Locke in frenzy while fucking him into the cushion.

Eventually they were both too out of breath to continue kissing and Jean breathed heavily onto Locke’s neck between nips to the skin. Locke at the same time clutched tightly to Jean’s back, neither of them noticing as Locke’s nails bit shallowly into his skin. Locke wrapped his legs more tightly around Jean’s waist and began bucking up to meet each one of Jean’s solid thrusts. ‘Jean—oh fuck...oh gods, Jean.’

Jean continued thrusting deeply even as he raised himself slightly to look down at Locke, whose eyes were closed and cheeks were stained red. Jean felt a wave of heat flash through him at the sight coupled with Locke’s mix of his name, expletives, and the naming of gods. He had never known Locke to become this engrossed or reactive in lovemaking before, even when it came to Sabetha. That thought alone made Jean feel a wave of affection for the man below him.

‘Oh gods, Locke,’ he muttered almost to himself as the coil in his stomach tightened. He took hold of Locke’s cock and stroked in time with his thrusts, which caused Locke to cry out and lose any sort of pattern in his thrusts. One, two, three strokes and Locke’s cum painted his and Jean’s stomachs and chests with a gasp. Another one, two three, four thrusts as Locke’s body constricted around his length and Jean’s cum coated Locke’s insides, causing Locke to let out a long moan at the heat.

Finally spent, Jean collapsed onto Locke, neither of them caring about the sweat and cum between them. Once they had regained their energy and breath Jean pulled himself out and grabbed a rag to clean them both up. When he saw that Locke was still lying sated on the cushion he leaned over him and kissed him slowly. Locke returned the kiss, tiredly but smiling. ‘What are you smiling about?’ Jean eventually asked, only when he was absolutely sure he had kissed Locke as thoroughly as possible.

‘I was just thinking that I should be an arsehole and then apologize more often so we can have more of this make-up sex,’ Locke teased with a laugh. Jean rolled his eyes but allowed Locke to twine his fingers into his hair and pull him back down for another kiss without further protest. 


End file.
